Portrait
by sakura1243
Summary: "I admit that there have been many times I wished I could disappear. Sink through the floor, dissolve into the wall, just close my eyes and make it all go away." Slight Russia/OC. Liet's POV.


Portrait

Hetalia

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the character used. . . except Angoria.

A/N: I want to thank Pink for the song "Family Portrait" 'cause that's what inspired me to write this. It's also my first time writing in a person's POV other than one of my OC's. So, yeah. Sorry if I fail. XD

* * *

I admit that there have been many times I wished I could disappear

(all the time).

Sink through the floor, dissolve into the wall, just close my eyes and make it all go away

(forever).

The difference between those occasions and this exact moment is that _his_ attention was directed at _me_. Although this is not the case, I find myself burying my head under the pillows piled on my sad excuse for a bed. I find myself pressing my hands against my ears when the sounds coming from downstairs don't fade

(go away).

I find myself curling into the ever-familiar fetal position. I do all this for _her_.

(idiot)

Because she can't.

(doesn't want to)

Despite my efforts to block everything out, the faint murmur of crying, when not overtaken by screaming and yelling, reverberated in my head. I felt my heart tighten with the knowledge that _she_ was in pain and that I couldn't do anything to stop it

(at all).

Even if I summed up the bravery to go downstairs

(coward)

and tried to stop the fighting

(useless)

I would only be beaten aside and forced to watch them battle whatever

(stupid)

thing they were arguing about.

I winced as the sound of something breaking echoed through the otherwise quiet house. There were a few moments of shocked silence, my heartbeat sounding extremely loud

(can they hear it?)

in my head. All too soon, the air was shattered with new insults spewing from _her_. I grimaced at each name and complaint that pierced into _his_

(dead)

heart. I recalled that the day after their last fight I approached him.

"She doesn't mean it."

(it kills me)

"She doesn't mean it and she loves you."

(ignore the pain)

He paused.

(ignore the fear)

"I don't need Lithuania telling me those things."

I curled in tighter on myself. Why did I feel the need to reassure him

(monster)

of _her_ feelings?

Because he is her happiness.

I make out my name in the spew, followed with Estonia's and Latvia's. _She_ seems to be on the defensive. I wish they would stop.

(make it stop)

I can feel the guilt pooling in my stomach, making it ache. After a few more words, I hear _her_ start in on money. A few more things break and I hear a shriek of indignition.

I can't help but compare all this to World War III. Words are bullets, mouths are guns. I can only hope

(stupid)

that _he_ won't go any further than that. He's never actually hit _her_. I guess it's like a bomb. It's only a matter of time.

(before he explodes)

No. He's never hit her. But he's using her love to destroy her. Does he love her back? I'm not so sure anymore. I pray that he does, for her sake.

(all for her)

I wish that they would just work it out, I wish they wouldn't fight, I wish we could be happy, I wish we could be a family.

(I wish)

If there was something I could do, no matter what it was, as long as it fixed us

(impossible)

I would do it.

(for her)

(for us)

Before the arguments _she_ had this idea. She wanted a family portrait. _He_ was more than happy to oblige. It hangs above the fireplace

(where it burns).

We look happy in it. I find myself staring at it somedays. Where did that go? That joy. She brought it when she moved in. We lived without fear. Until _he_

(got bored).

I find _him_ studying it, too. When he thinks no one is around. I think he misses it too. Sometimes. And I believe that we could go back to those days.

I see the chance dancing in _his_ eyes. I see the chance playing on _her_ smile. I see the chance beating with Latvia's heart. I see the chance whispering through Estonia's breath. I _feel_ the chance burning on the tip of my tongue.

(release it)

Silence. I realize. There is silence. I cautiously sit up, delicately place my feet on the dusty floor. Silence.

(careful)

I edge towards the door, freezing each time a floorboard complains. A sweaty hand grasps the cool doornob. Silence.

(careful)

The door swings open, thankfully without noise. Silence. I peer into the dark hallway, catching a glimpse of another pair of curious eyes peeking out. Silence. I chance a step outside. Silence. I creep to the stairs. Silence. I make my way down, holding my breath. Silence. The door to the sitting room is cracked, firelight playing on the floor and making the shadows dance. Silence. I force myself to look. Silence.

(why is it so quiet?)

My eyes land on all the glass glimmering on the rug. A chair is tipped over, one of the small tables is laying crumpled in a corner. The "family" portrait hangs watching over the room. And in the center

(silence)

Russia and Angoria stand. My breath catches, my heart stutters. But I have no reason to

(fear)

worry. They stand in embrace. Eyes closed. Tears drying on her cheeks. Warm.

(thank you)

I accidentally step on a squeaky floorboard. Angoria doesn't move. Russia glances over. I gasp.

He smiles. Genuine.

(thank you)

I return the gesture. Now Angoria is looking, she dimples and shifts, freeing her arm which she offers to me. I hesitate, eyes shifting to Russia

(still smiling)

I take a breath and join them. Warm.

(family)

Thank you.

(for now)

* * *

A/N: Ok, I decided to not only do another POV, but to also try a different style.

(I don't think I'm entirely satisfied with the quality writing. I'll probably end up re-writing it. . . but, yeah.)

Let me know what you think of it! And thanks for reading this far. I love those who read my stories. I also love those who review! CIAO : +

~Sakura


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